Charlie's P.O.V
"We kissed."
Harry scratches his head. "I mean - she kissed me...first."
There's a pause.
"When was this?"
"The night before, you guys went back to Britain."
"Ok...," I say, slow to process what he's revealing. I want to know everything before I decide on an appropriate reaction. "Please explain how exactly it happened."
"...Sure." He hesitates. "Um... Sil came in sweating, from skating at Bellview apparently. She had dinner with us, and then we were playing with my PS4 when she started getting calls from Anna, but she ignored them and when I asked her why, she told me Anna is a b-word who just hangs out with her to get closer to you. And I said, "Duh," and she was like, "Ya," and then she just ... kissed me! But I stopped her and was like, "You're my bestie's sister." And she was like, "Ya, but you fool around with girls all the time. Don't act like you have a heart suddenly," and that pissed me off, so I told her to leave, and she jumped out of the window."
"Is that why you lost touch with me when I left?" I squint at the end of his narration.
He nods gloomily. "I'm so sorry. "
"It's fine. If anything, I'm sorry she said that to you."
Holding grudges will do nothing to change what happened. I pull him in for a hug, and he breathes in relief.
We lock the doors since no one will be home - his parents are on a business trip - and then rush into his car. Getting onto the driveway, he thanks me for forgiving him, and I remember something he mentioned.
"What's Bellview?"
"Nowhere you want to go there."
"Why?"
"Because," he says a little harshly, "the dudes who hang out there are not nice."
When I lift an intrigued brow, he scowls. "They are mostly from Anderson High, our rival school. "
"So, because of the school they attend, they are not nice?"
He avoids my gaze, starting the engine.
I scan his demeanour quietly. Perhaps the guy who punched him at the party also hangs out at Bellview - which is more reason for me to go there.
When we arrive, the Hundi is parked out front. We say our goodbyes, and I head inside. Hopefully, Sydney is alone.
*
She wasn't. The moment I stepped inside, a male's laughter rang in my ears. Not wanting to know anything of it, I made a beeline for my room.
This dawn, I think I can ignore her man, but not her. She is the first thing my eyes land on when I leave the room.
"Why are you up so early?" she says, then, noticing my wet hair, facepalms herself.
I pour myself a glass of water, and she resumes sniffing the stew in her Tupperware. Then she tilts.
"How was your sleepover?"
"Great. How is Dan?"
"Go ask him yourself." She reverts to the stew, feigning a noncommittal mien. I frown.
"So, he slept over?"
"Yes." She pauses to add, "But nothing happened. "
"Why?"
"Why?!"
I wince.
"What kind of woman do you think I am?"
I don't reply. Her teeth grit. She is glaring as if I'm absurd for being curious. As if she didn't use to poke her nose into my twin's love life (mine is nonexistent). The seventy-eighth time Sydney asked her if she was sexually active, Sil deadpanned, "No, Syd. I just lie there."
"You're becoming disrespectful," she sneers, "like your sister."
At this juncture, I give up.
"Please, I'm sorry for asking that," I say, already walking away.
An unnerving silence bleeds into the expanding space between us until she exclaims, "Your results came in yesterday."
"Really?" I spin one hundred and eighty degrees. A shiver runs up my spine as she meets my widened eyes with an impassive stare.
"You did ok," she says and bypasses me into her room in a blink. Coming out almost instantly, she hands me two uniforms, saying, "You are senior now."
Pardon me?! When?! I gape at her.
"Ya, I made arrangements to move you up two grades." She gradually grins as she speaks. "Since, clearly, the exams were below your standard. You should be in a class of smart people, after all."
My frown deepens to that, and she slaps my shoulder to add, "You'll thank me later."
Really?
She has just built my grave. I was looking forward to joining sophomore year since I am capable of talking to at least two students - Anna, despite our quarrel, and, recently, Mia - but now what?
I'll have to start all over again, alone this time.
"Why not stick with the hurt you know rather than risk being hurt again, right?"
"Where did you hear that from, Sil?"
"A film. "
"You would like to be in one, innit?"
" Yes, so I can spew deep nonsense like that. Makes me sound wise."
"You are wise, Sil."
I stay in my room until Sydney summons me. A man's back faces me in the hall, but I run out, shunning him. I wonder if Sydney thinks it's a good idea to have Dan in the house. What if he steals something?
This can be history operating itself. I want to tell her so as she steers us out of the neighbourhood, but I doubt she'll listen.
Silence engulfs us the entire ride. My heart starts pounding as we reach pristine gates with the glowing golden inscription "Excellence and Integrity" embossed on them.
Parking by a Range Rover, she scoffs, only to then tap my shoulder and whoop, "Hey, is that not him?!"
My focus traces hers to three guys cracking up as they evacuate a Lamborghini.
He knocks a redhead playfully, and the blnde with uneven lengths of hair yells something. I realise they are the guys who saved him at the party.
"I should thank him for hosting you." Sydney rolls down the windows and then waves.
"Hey Harry! -"
"Oh My-" It doesn't take my upper body more than a second to morph into catapillar below my seat.
"Will you get up so he sees you?" Her tone scolds me.
I lift my head for a peek, and sure enough, his eyes meet mine. Without thinking, I wave. He looks away.
"Huh, maybe he's not seeing you."
I numbly accept Sil's conjecture as he walks away with the guys.
"Here," I hear and turn to Sydney revealing a pair of round wire frame spectacles from her purse.
"Wear this so girls don't bother you."
I frown, my thoughts digressing from Harry to her baseless and unnecessary reason. She pushes it onto my face before I can protest, then huffs. "Good. Now get out."
Striding into the building, I subtly trail behind anyone and everyone who seems like a senior until I can manage to find my first period. The classroom is more extensive than any at St. John's, which bothers me. Fortunately, it is also empty now, although why aren't the students here?
Lateness leaves a bitter taste on my tongue. I wonder how they can have loud chinwags - I hear them through my earmuffs - in the hallways and not consider entering their classes first.
Charlie, now you sound like a teacher: a terrible first step to fitting in.
I don't know how, but I doze off right after sitting at the back row. This saves me from the awkward glances of my new peers trooping in. I wake up seconds before a teacher arrives with two new students. He makes them introduce themselves to the class, and I feel sorry for their squeaky voices, which create giggles and snorts from preppy and stout-looking seniors seated. None of them notices me, perhaps because three attractive people wear similar spectacles: a coincidental blessing.
In the next period, during a calculus lesson, the teacher points me out, proving that I'm not so blessed.
"Hey, you at the back."
I blink. Those near me whirl around as if to say, "Wait a minute, you're not the guy I thought you were."
"What's your name?"
I blink again. The seemingly demure, mid-thirties lad rolls up his white sleeves and then, to my utmost horror, strides over to my desk.
"Krypton...," he reads from the closed book beside my notes. He should not call me that; I point at the middle name to inform him, and he smiles.
"Charlie, I'm Henley," he says, " and it appears you know the answer to the question on the board."
Why? Do I not look like a daft baby to you?
His gaze falls on my flimsy calculations. I shake my head.
No, please don't.
"Do you mind showing your new peers the solution?"
Yes, I mind, but it would be rude to waste more seconds from the lesson's time limit. I give Mr Henley my notebook instead, batting my eyelid, mentally pleading; please just accept this.
He takes it, and I sigh in relief as he asks a large-lipped, ginger-haired girl to write it on the board. When she returns my notes, I know for sure that she will bad-mouth me to her friends when she gets the chance.
*
Her chance comes in the cafeteria; I feel her acrid glare on me from across her table. Ignoring her, I instead survey the bustling vicinity for Harry. I'm not too fond of crowded areas, but seniors and juniors have their break together, meaning he can be here.
Within a moment of fidgeting for some sandwich, I spot him; he is sitting with the same guys from this morning, talking fervently. This time, his eyes flutter at me as if to say, I see you, before refocusing on his hyper conversation.
I exhale, then leave.
If he wants to avoid me, let me help him. Let me find a quiet place he would never like to go to, so we don't run into each other anymore.
I go to the rooftop: Harry hates heights, and it was recommended as the spot for a book club. I bring along a textbook - among the pile given to me after the third period - and distract my thoughts with protons. I also start nibbling on my sandwich, when a feminine voice stuns me.
"Oh, thank goodness you're here!-" she pants out. Her hand grips her side, and she winces momentarily before standing for more air to chatter.
"I was expecting you in class, but then when I described you to my sitting partner, he said you might be here. Here's your T-shirt."
She removes it from a hygiene bag. Her side, which must have been where she was stabbed, bothers me, so I don't even need to prep myself to thank her for going through the trouble of climbing the stairs to return it.
"You're welcome." She grins. Her gaze falls on my textbook as she gives me Sil's t-shirt.
"Wait -you're a senior?"
"Mhmm."
"So, like, you were, what, promoted?"
"Mhmm."
"Wow ... that's crazy unless you're Einstein." She steps back, registering the revelation. I shrug, and her green eyes squint.
"How were the exams for you? Did you write Chemistry? How's that paper?"
Easy.
Then she mumbles, "Shit. Einstein."
That is foul language and please, don't respect the legend. I glare.
She is too stunned to notice.
When she composes herself, a chuckle escapes. "I'm so sorry but, like ..." Her hand points to her chest. "We wrote the same exams and like... Screw it. Can you tutor me?"
Again, foul language.
"Ok," I say. She must be drenched in poor grades to smile the way she does....so brightly. Why else would she smile at a stranger like that?
"Thanks. So, like starting tomorrow?"
I prefer the day after tomorrow so I can seek Sydney's approval first.
But I also feel guilty for troubling Mia and making her stand for too long. What do I do?
She suggests meeting here before school begins, and I nod quickly so she can leave. She is about to turn when a question crosses my mind.
"Um, please, do you know Bellview?"
"Na." She shrugs. "Check Google Maps or something."
"Google...maps?" I pull out Sydney's phone because I think I have seen that app on it. When it catches my eye, I look up. "How d-do you..."
"-Use it?" She frowns. When I nod, she walks over to me and clicks on the icon.
"So...you type the location you want to go here..," she presses the phone in rapid succession while I try grasping everything she's saying.
Advancing technology is both humanity's rescue and doom.
*
When it's closing, and I don't have her around to reiterate how the app works, I have good retention.
I pretend to know where I am going when Sydney picks me up and relents to my plea for her to drive me there. We are met with crowds of youth littered all over the decent skatepark.
"Thirty minutes." Syd parks by a tree outside. "Waste a second more, and I'll drag you back here."
"Thank you!" I run out. I may not even use all that time. Landing on Sil's skateboard, I propel myself towards the full pipe. Getting to the top, I manage a frontside flip and go around for an Ollie.
As I double-flip and feel the ramps jolting my knees, I avoid every eye and study the park. It is definitely not a site for industrial ruins; I assumed that was the case since she never told me about it. Even some students chilling here are in their blue shirts from Anderson High, presumably.
Now I know Sil wasn't going to a shady place; it's left with finding the puncher, I muse. I start doing my tricks closer to their squads. My pace starts picking speed when, as if coincidence loves me, I and someone do hard flips simultaneously.
"Yo Ronnie!" the lad hollers at someone, then lifts his middle finger.
What's that supposed to mean? I wonder, composing myself from the scare that was him being right behind me.
It must be him: he has a cut on his lip, two plasters on his neck, and a healing black eye, none of which hinder me from recognising his dyed hair and great jawline.
I gulp when his gaze flickers to me for a second while he trudges towards his mates.
OK, Charlie, you can do this. I breathe. Three, two, one -"
"Um, hello?"
He turns around. "Ya?"
"Um..." My mind goes blank. He leans on his hip.
"Do you need something?"
I shake my head, then nod. I don't know what I am doing. Did I forget to prepare for this?
"Your uniform is new," he comments. "And you sound British ... Meaning you are lost?"
"Please, no." Finally, I find my voice, albeit stuttering, "I-I mean, um, I was..um, loo-looking for you."
"Why? Do you need my services?" The thought of it makes him beam.
Now, I hate to annihilate his immediate happiness, but at least I manage to do so with kind of good sentences.
"Please, no; I need to talk to you about my friend. Ur, his- he's Harry, and you guys fought at his party Saturday."
"... Ok." He makes a face as if he is entertaining a child. I hate it.
I take a deep breath. "I came here...to tell you that...He's sorry."
"Yeah, right," he scoffs. His Asian eyes seem gentle, but with the way he's looking at me, I fear he wants me to disappear. To prove my point, he groans, "Dude, I don't think you know who you're talking about. Or maybe your Harry is not my Harry; you get me? The dude I know wouldn't say that, so."
Then he turns to walk away, but I block him.
"Wait-" I remove the phone and find a picture of Harry and me. The Anderson student twirls his skateboard in one hand as the other touches the screen.
Then, he grimaces. "Whoever took this picture did you dirty."
I don't understand what that means. He looks up at me, and I assume he's about to elaborate until he smugs. "I can take better photos than this with my eyes closed."
That reminds me of Halima's offer. Considering the possibility of sending her my pictures, I blurt, "At what cost?"
His smooth features crack into a grin.
"It's expensive for everyone besides my pals," he lulls. " Maybe you start paying by showing us the tricks you got?"
No, Sydney's waiting.
"Tomorrow?"
No.
"Tomorrow-next?"
Maybe.
"Tomorrow-next it is." He concurs with my facial expressions. As he starts to withdraw, I lament, "You recognised Harry, right?"
"Make sure to come and find out." He smirks. "Oh, and I put my number on your phone while you were squirming."